Chasing the 20

Every once in a while, I have very interesting conversations with strangers. Last week was one of those, when a younger guy whose crush for me could be perceived from across the Atlantic Ocean. I have been corresponding with someone who is moving to Nigeria to replace his predecessor for some diplomatic duties, clearly an older guy, but then he attached me to one of his 27-year-old assistants for efficient correspondence.

Eventually, he moved to Nigeria and I had to have a sit down with his assistant to go through certain documents. Little did I know that this boy was going to attempt to turn it into a date, while his ogas where they’re pretending to eat lunch and not notice. Thing is, I am not even going to lie; oyinbo man can make can make a woman feel all sorts of special, but he is too young jare.

In typical male style, he very quickly pushed the conversation into checking if I had a man by the cliché “I hope your boyfriend won’t be….” Statement. Well I let him know I didn’t have someone but between y’all and I, I am at that place in my life where I want happiness more than I want anything else. Like me he is sapiosexual so we delved deep into talking about the death of traditional courtship, the confusion of who should do what in a relationship, the forcefulness of women and how laid back and complacent men are becoming these days. Naturally, the conversation evolved to the 80/20 rule in choosing a partner.

The 80/20 rule basically says you will only get 80% of what you are looking for but like most men do after a while, they start thinking the grass could be greener on the other side instead of watering their own damn grass. Often times, they come across someone who is offering the 20%, but then that is all. The trick about that 20% is, it’s exciting at first but after a while it’s empty with no depth to it. The catch is, 20% looks good until you discover that’s all there is to it and then you find yourself missing that person who was your 80% percent. Hopefully, I made sense there sha.

By the way, did you know that Sweden has the highest rate of empowered women in the world, and it also ranks the highest in divorce rates in the world? The country is literally run by women, my young assistant oyibo toaster believes it’s because women are over empowered and act like men, thus confusing men who do not know how to act like men. At this point, I was like dear Jesus, why is he younger than me, and why isn’t he at least Naija, or half Naija? Fix it Jesus!

Back to the topic
Now unfortunately I think that some men believe that if they have the 80% as a main and subsidise the 20% as a side-piece they would be happy. Others on the other hand, like my ex, the unlucky guy will try to change women or impose things on the woman to make them 100%.

My ex, Mr Unlucky, used to tell me “don’t get upset if I cheat on you, all my friends go clubbing with their women and all you want to do is go home most of the time”. I don’t have an active party life, I used to try, but when he started fighting and threatening me about it, I just couldn’t be bothered. Then he said that his mum said I was not social, I go to their family house and not jump around talking to everyone, and in my mind I’m like here is a woman who said “oh but she is not light-skinned, I thought you preferred light-skinned girls” the first time she met me. Like didn’t he see my chocolate skin before coming to me? Yet, I never deceived this man into believing I was a party girl nor did I have an issue with him going as long as he is not creeping around on me we are cool. This was a man who didn’t exercise or bother about healthy eating like I am, but I was still ok with cooking him all his fatty food and stuff. We would even go on holiday and I would go hiking or to the museums alone because he didn’t want to go and I wouldn’t let him rain on my parade.

Gone are the days men used to complain about their women trying to change them, these days men are the ones doing all the changing, it’s like they want to get their women to fit into their idea of the perfect mould. That’s how last week, I was outside my house in a wrapper (as a nudist, I walk around in almost nothing, hence my collection of wrappers), was accosted by a grown man after saying goodbye to a special friend in a special way. This grown ass man who was watching, called me aside, I thought maybe he missed his way so I decided to walk over and help only for him to attempt some small talk and eventually ask for my number. I refused to give him my number and then he responded, “You are attractive but would have been better if you had breasts”.

 As in I stood there with my mouth open until he drove off, I was speechless, what won’t I see in this Lagos. First of all, I was obviously not heavily endowed or ‘packaged’ when he saw me initially so why would he make such a statement about having breasts, like he wanted me to be someone else. Abeg if you like big-breast, follow big-breast, if you like ass, hips follow it, if you love your women glamorous follow those ones, mbok, don’t expect your MaryAmaka to wake up and be Shakira because you said so. That’s how somebody will end up with a man like that, be all of his 80% and one day he will see a big breasted 20% and say that one is better than me.

We need to be honest with ourselves in this dating jungle, know what is our 80% and stick to it. Not all this what ifs or constant comparison to partners of the past or partners we wish we had. Chasing after the 20% is not going to do you any good, I mean look at Mr Unlucky, after we broke up, he tried to come back and his main reason was that he missed my homely nature, the same one he complained about o..hian!
At the end, Mr young assistant and I ended the night agreeing that the 80% was more important than the 20% but disagreeing on the fact that I am not attracted to oyinbo men. Now he is on a mission to make me his girlfriend…LOL…that won’t happen, at least not to a younger oyinbo boy.

Meanwhile have you noticed the increase in interracial relationships and marriages in Nigeria? Izz like, It’s the new trend….

Ah well